


Testing the Waters

by 2001DoubleD33



Series: Through Moments Unnoticed, We Say Everything [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Changed man, Crushes, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Joan - Freeform, Joanlock - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Meaningful actions, Meaningful stares, Mutual Pining, No Sex, Nudity, One sided fem!lock, Pining, Plot? Perhaps, Sherlock - Freeform, Weird, fem!lock, slight angst, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2001DoubleD33/pseuds/2001DoubleD33
Summary: Sherlock begins to find his roomate, Joan, a little intriguing. Despite himself, he must investigate.(im considering this a oneshot unless I decide to update. It's interesting on its own and cute, but It was written a long time ago so Ill have trouble adjusting to writing it.)





	Testing the Waters

 

Sherlock had been on the way home from a particularly annoying case with Lestrade and Donovan, And while snide comments were the least of his worries, the case had disappointed him as far as complication. It was simple, though he’d told Joan that he’d be out until late. He didn’t bother to text, deciding that anything Joan could be doing at home didn’t need to be stopped because he returned. Instead, he texted away at Lestrade, sending scalding remarks about Sally and the fact that his time had been wasted.  
The ride wasn’t too long or boring, and for Sherlock it was mildly calming. The rain pattered against the roof of the cab, leaving the sidewalks and unlucky people walking along damp. He sighed and only pulled his gaze from the window when the cab stopped. He paid with little to no regard for the driver, then stalked upg to the door and then up to the flat with hasty, quiet steps.  
The music that played behind the door piqued his curiosity as he neared the door, making him pause before he pushed it open, striving to keep his steps as close to silent as possible. As he opened the door, the lyrics of what sounded like a pop song hit his ears;  
_Girls hit your hallelujah...Girls hit your hallelujah…_  
Sherlock toed off his shoes and looked around for any sign of Joan, knowing she wouldn’t have just up and left this… god awful music playing for Sherlock to return to. Instead, he crept towards the kitchen with interest, only to stop in his tracks and gape at what was Joan Watson.  
_‘Cause uptown funk ‘gon give it to you_  
_Saturday night and we in the spot_  
_Don’t believe me just watch!_  
As the song hit it’s clear chorus of a deeper tone of voice and a chorus of others, Joan’s hips begun to move in time with the beat, her head nodding along with them as she danced- oblivious to Sherlock’s presence. The Holmes boy stood still and silent, watching the scene with a faint grin playing on his lips, his earlier exasperation forgotten as he watched the woman roll her shoulders in a clear attempt at an older 90s type dance, though her hands were restricted with the dishes she held.  
_Stop, wait a minute_  
_Fill my cup, put some liquor in it_  
_Take a sip, sign a check_  
_Julio, get the stretch_  
Sherlock couldn’t hide his amusement as Joan started singing along. By that time, he had tuned out the horrid music and was instead focusing solely on his own pop star Joan Watson. She couldn’t seem to stop dancing for anything as she continued washing the dishes, nearing the end of the mountain of dirty plates and cutlery.  
_I'm too hot_  
_Called a police and a fireman_  
_I'm too hot_  
_Make a dragon wanna retire man_  
_I'm too hot_  
_Bitch say my name you know who I am_  
_I'm too hot_  
_Am I bad 'bout that money_  
_Break it down_  
The chorus began building again, and on the last line of Girls hit your hallelujah,Joan’s singing was abruptly cut off as she held the spoon under the water the wrong way and soaked the front of her jumper and the edge of the counter. She cursed, a rare occurrence unless genuinely upset, and shut off the tap quickly, holding the bottom of her jumper out to inspect it. With a sigh she turned to lower the music on her phone so she could clean up, and that’s when she spotted Sherlock.  
The blush that rose onto her cheeks was from both embarrassment and shock, though the shock eased steadily into annoyance.  
“Sherlock! I didn’t realize you’d gotten home, I uh...how long-?” She stammered, quickly shutting off the music entirely.  
“Long enough to see you call Lestrade and the firemen.” He hummed evenly, the humour in his voice teasing.  
Joan huffed a laugh as she hastily tucked the phone into her pocket,”Sorry. I just need to change real quick. I’ll have to go to the shops tomorrow- Speedys sound alright?” She paused on her way out of the door, poking an accusing finger into his shoulder,”And yes, Sherlock, you’re eating. The last thing you had was toast and tea two days ago.”  
Sherlock merely pursed his lips in place of a smile as he turned away to strip himself of the coat for the time being. Joan rolled her eyes and went up to her room to change. Sherlock took up his usual position on the couch, doing whatever it was he found relevant on his phone as he waited in silence.  
It was 7.36 seconds before Joan returned quietly, but Sherlock saw the shake of her head as she passed and his eyes narrowed.  
“What?” He asked sharply, his phone momentarily forgotten.  
“I’ve gotten the song stuck in your head, have I?” She asked with a grin.  
Sherlock started to demand what she was carrying on about when he became aware of the pad of his foot tapping the melody of the song into the wood. He scowled and turned his face back to his phone without a word, making Joan bite her lip to stifle a giggle.  
She went back to the kitchen and resumed the dishes, humming a new song softly to herself. Sherlock had long before dropped his head onto the arm of the couch and shut his eyes, slipping into his mind palace to the soothing sounds of whatever song Joan had picked up. Even with work on his mind, he couldn’t seem to pry himself away from the more...quiet moments with the Watson girl. Intimate was a word he saved strictly for more literal things.

 _“Sherlock, did you get milk?”_ Joan’s voice slipped into his head as a memory.  
_“No, it grew legs and walked itself here.”_  
Joan had chuckled fondly, _”I wouldn’t be surprised, considering your track record.”_  
Sherlock had scoffed before falling silent again, trying to retreat to his mind palace to think about a case he had been working on when he’d felt Joan’s hand pat his shoulder gently _,”Thanks, Sherlock.”_  
He had stayed silent and still, letting her walk out of the room before he had opened his eyes and stared up at nothing while he thought.

Sherlock had, after that moment, occasionally tried to help out around the house. Whether it was cleaning up a bit of the table for dinner or buying something or cleaning up after his experiments, he had been rewarded for each little chore with a pat on the shoulder or the ruffling of his hair and a ‘Thank you’- all rolled with one of Joan’s bright smiles. He did love her smile, no matter how much he tried to deny it. It wasn’t something fake or cold or forced, but rather warm and...dare he say loving. He would never admit to anyone-especially Joan- that he would press up into her touch the slightest bit, and even miss it when she carried on with whatever she was doing.  
He’d spent the next ten minutes after Joan had stopped humming replaying the quiet, tender sound in his head. All the while he ran through each compliment or remark she’d made towards him.  
_“That was fantastic, Sherlock!”_  
_“Brilliant. You’re bloody brilliant, Sherlock.”_  
_“God, you’re amazing, Sherlock. I don’t know how you do it.”_

The smile on Sherlock’s lips was faint, but it showed. He was, to put it simply happy for once. He knew what Joan had done to him since she’d moved in. Even without her shouting to get out when he’d mistakenly intruded on her bath, or taking her mobile without explanation, she’d made him a better man. Yet another thing he would never admit.  
And then, her voice was real, speaking to him in soft, idle tones.  
“What’s going on in that brain of yours, Sherlock?” She said in a voice that resembled a fond murmur,”Making you smile like that. Must be nice.”  
Sherlock stayed still and silent. He made no attempt to keep the smile on his face.  
It came naturally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock stepped out of the cab and left Joan to pay like any other time before. He strode towards the door, making Joan pick up her pace to catch the door he’d opened and left to swing shut behind him, not bothering to hold it. She didn’t mind much- it’s not like it was unusual.

She reached up to tug at the bun she’d pulled her hair up into, tightening it while accidentally letting a few strands fall out to frame her face faintly. She sat down and shrugged the coat off her shoulders with ease, happy to be rid of the camp piece of cloth. She stared out the window into the ever-darkening sky, the rain coming down harder than when they’d gotten into the cab. She sighed softly, unaware of the studying eyes of her flatmate as he tried to memorize each soft detail his own life severely lacked.

They didn’t speak other than ordering, and even then Joan had to prod Sherlock to get something. She won the argument and he got something small, proceeding to eat a smaller portion of it. Joan didn’t comment, deciding that was fine.  
“So, how was the case with Lestrade today?” Joan had long ago given up on referring to Lestrade with his first name. That only got her a confused look and an avoided topic.

“Boring.” He declared,”Lestrade was staring at the blatantly obvious. He misled me with what he considered a five.”

Joan smiled briefly, fondly,”Should I expect some sort of strop when we get home?”

Sherlocks eyes narrowed at her and he bit back a snide retort as the waitress came by to clean off the table and get them the check. Minutes later they were outside in the rain again. Joan waited by as Sherlock attempted to wave down a cab, and quick as ever, he did.  
“You’re a life saver, you know.” Joan beamed, settling into the backseat next to Sherlock.

Sherlock stayed silent and looked at her from the side as she told the cabbie where to go.  
“You say that rather often,”He finally hummed, turning his head towards her slightly.

“What? ‘You’re a lifesaver’?” She replied with a soft sigh behind the words.

“Not exactly.” Sherlock corrected,”Referring to me with positive adjectives. ‘Fantastic’ and ‘Brilliant’ seem to be your favourites as of late.”

“Are you complaining? You are brilliant, Sherlock. And fantastic- when there’s nothing suspect in the kettle boiling, of course.” She concluded.

“I simply live in a world of average IQs and happen to have one of the higher ones. Nothing special. There’s probably someone else with the same level as I have whom you’ve never met yet you seem to assume I’m worthy of praise. Why?”

The innocents and...well, just the statement had Joan’s heart tight in her chest. Why? God! There were so many reasons!

“Because even if I did meet another man or woman like you, you were the first. You decided I was interesting enough to invite me to live with you without a second thought- or maybe every deduction was weighing pros and cons privately, who knows. But to be frank, I probably wouldn’t even be alive today to say any of this had you not come along. I had nothing before you.” Her voice had grown softer as she spoke, but everything she’d said was just beating around the same bush she always had.

“You’ve saved me in more ways than one, Sherlock. I think I can put up with a few snide remarks about my own intelligence and a couple badly timed experiments if it means living with you and having that thrill.”

Sherlock’s gaze was void of emotion and his eyes ran over her for a moment without speaking.  
Suddenly Joan felt like she’d made a mess of herself and cleared her throat, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.  
“I don’t...Sorry, I don’t know where all that came from. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry.” She stammered, turning her eyes to her shoes.

Sherlock made a low sound to acknowledge her statement but otherwise stayed silent. Joan swallowed under his gaze and the next few minutes were not comfortable for her.  
When the cab arrived to 221B, she practically jumped out of the cab and nearly tossed the money in her hand to pay the cabbie; She stopped abruptly at the sound of Sherlock’s knuckles rapping on the top of the car. By the time she realized he was paying, the man had already started pulling back onto the road.

Sherlock turned and walked into the flat without another word, leaving Joan to stand and worry about what she’d said, and flat out stress about what Sherlock had really heard her saying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night continued as it normally would. Joan toed off her shoes at the door, shed off her coat. She decided a warm shower was in order and sighed softly as she pulled the hair tie from the bun, shaking her hair free and running a hand through it as she headed to the bathroom. Once there she shut- and locked- the door before stripping and started the tap, letting out a content, relaxed breath as the warm water hit her shoulders, neck, and back. She took a few moments to relax before she started her usual process and lathered her hair with shampoo.

Ten minutes later, she stepped out and wrapped the towel around herself, wringing out her hair and running the towel over her body so she wouldn’t drip over the wood when she went to her room. She picked up her clothes, folded neatly on the toilet lid, then unlocked the door and slipped into her room to change, in turn shutting the door behind her.

Ridding herself of the towel, Joan dropped her clothes onto the edge of the bed and went to her dresser, pulling out new underwear and bra, putting them both on with quiet ease. She’d just dropped down to find some comfy sweatpants and maybe a t-shirt when the door opened.

With a surprised yelp, Joan shot up and hurried to the bedside, snatching her towel off of it and yanking it over her front. When she looked to the door, she saw no other than Sherlock, standing in the doorway with his chin tilted up in a manner that clearly suggested he was above anyone.

“Oi! Sherlock! What the hell?” She barked angrily, waiting a beat before she nabbed a pillow off her bed and flinging it at Sherlock.

Unsatisfyingly, he ducked and looked back at it with a raised eyebrow, then turned his gaze back to her as he treaded forward.

“Out, Sherlock! Get-” Joan sputtered, pushing herself back against her nightstand with her feet.

“Johanna.”

Joan stopped in her tracks, her mouth snapping shut as a shudder slipped down her back. His tone was one that demanded attention, quiet and calm, but deeper than normal. Just what was he playing at?

She was left with even more confusion and unanswered questions as he stepped even closer. He bent at the hips, putting his hand against the wall above her bedside table, looming over her in a way that one would corner a scolded puppy. Joan’s eyes followed every movement and she felt she had a right to be blushing right then.

Sherlock’s searching eyes made her squirm and she fought a whine of protest. Why the hell did he do this? He’s got that bloody shirt on, too! The purple one that is too damn tight over his chest and upper arms for her liking. With that and the way he’s standing over her, so superior and serious and...and...god, he’ll drive her crazy with all of this.

And then, just as quickly as he started everything, he straightened himself, and glides out of the room as if nothing had happened. Joan let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and her frame relaxed immediately. There she sat for the next minute or so, trying to recollect her thoughts, before she slowly rose to her feet and went back to getting a t-shirt and soft, loose flannel pants. She decided to go downstairs to make herself some tea and ask about the little scene before she went to her room to curl up with a book.

She made tea first before walking out to the main room and taking a seat in her chair, looking over Sherlock as he relaxed back in his chair, eyes turned to the ceiling as he thought.

“Sherlock? Did...Lestrade text you or something?” She began,”What was all that upstairs? And don’t do that! You scared the crap out of me.”

Sherlock was quiet for a moment,”No new case. An experiment.”

Joan opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again and shook her head quietly. Of course.  
Just an experiment.


End file.
